


Spones Ficlets

by TheaNishimori



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, McSpock - Freeform, SpoCoy, spones - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:22:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9224777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheaNishimori/pseuds/TheaNishimori
Summary: Since I'm caught in the vortex of Spones/McSpock shipping and can't seem to stop writing about them, I'm starting this post as a place to put my short drabbles. I'm expecting a lot of these to be inspired by photos or fanart.





	1. Chapter 1

Leonard had finally convinced Spock to go on shore leave — but only on the condition that the doctor accompany him. 

“You have not had a vacation for almost as long as I have, Leonard,” Spock chided. “It is only logical that you ‘get a taste of your own medicine,’ as it were. Besides, you have not yet taken me on a ‘real date’ as you promised 38.57 days ago.” 

Leonard had only put up some token grumbling. He was actually thrilled that Spock wanted to spend a whole week with him. The planet had been one of the first human extraterrestrial settlements and was now a thriving hub of interplanetary trade, so there were any number of cultural attractions for them to enjoy; the only question was where to start. 

They both packed their bags and checked in at the hotel, then changed out of their uniforms. Leonard took one look at Spock’s Vulcan outfit and sighed. 

“We’re touring the museums and tech centers, not going to a formal state dinner,” he pointed out. “Here, wear these.” 

The clothes Leonard pulled out of the suitcase were similar to his own — comfortably broken-in jeans and a denim shirt. Just for kicks, he found another pendant and put it on Spock so they would match. 

“Is this satisfactory?” Spock asked, suddenly canting his hips and looking at Leonard with amusement and seduction smoldering in his eyes. 

“Hot damn!” Leonard answered. “You look even better in those than I do! What do you say to spending a little time _in_ before we go out?” 

Spock nodded, then chuckled softly when Leonard pushed him down onto the bed. 


	2. At the Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bones was happily nursing a drink at Chekov's wedding when Spock decided to commandeer his evening. It was all Jim's fault, of course. ;)

 

Bones finished another glass with a pasted-on smile. Chekov and his brand-new “little missus” were as cute as buttons, dancing in their matching pink and purple outfits in a sea of family, friends, and crewmembers. They were getting re-stationed together on some outpost after their honeymoon. Bones wished them all the luck in the universe — he sincerely hoped their marriage would not end up like his own. 

When he went back to the bar for another drink, he was surprised to see Spock looking over the menu. 

“I thought your superior metabolism prevented you from enjoying this stuff,” he said without preamble while indicating to the bartender that he wanted a refill. 

“That is not precisely true,” Spock replied. “Although I do not experience the effects of inebriation, I can and do enjoy the complex flavor combinations. The Guavarita was especially delicious… but I am considering trying something different next. It is difficult to decide when there are so many choices.” 

Bones laughed. “You could try one of each.” 

“That would be… inadvisable.” Spock raised one eyebrow. “While it is good to remain hydrated, too much of even a good thing can be self-defeating.” 

“I was kidding, Spock! Try the Blue Hawaii with coconut rum.” 

“That does sound… intriguing.” 

Bones got his whiskey and found an empty table near the wall. He was startled when Spock joined him with his bright cyan-blue glass, complete with a pink toothpick parasol. 

“D’you like it?” 

“Yes. Thank you for the suggestion,” Spock said before taking another sip. 

Bones looked out at the dance floor and saw that Uhura was dancing with a man he didn’t recognize. “Hey… you two on the outs again?” 

Spock followed his gaze and paused before answering. “In a manner of speaking… yes. Although it would be more accurate to say we have permanently parted ways.” 

“God, I’m sorry,” Bones said, meaning it. “Are you sure it’s permanent?” 

“Quite.” Spock took another long sip. “At the bachelor party, Jim had mentioned something fascinating.” 

“Oh?” Bones went along, recognizing that Spock wanted to change the subject. “What about?” 

“He said you were an accomplished ballroom dancer.” 

“Dammit, Jim!” Bones glared at the back of the man’s head, which was currently bent down to hear what his date was saying. “I’m not ‘accomplished’ — in fact he’s never even seen me dance! I’ll fix him to go around spreading lies….” 

“Then why would he make such a claim?” Spock asked, confused. 

“I once told him — God, that was years ago, when we were still at the Academy! — how my mom _insisted_ that I learn the basics. She was from old money, see, and she wanted to make sure I could do a passable foxtrot if the occasion called for it. _Hours_ of my childhood spent at lessons, paired up with girls who’d been learning ever since they could walk. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to have a kid two years younger than you roll her eyes because she can do the steps in her sleep and backwards before you can get it right even once? Suffice it to say, it was a nightmare.” 

“I see.” Spock pulled out the skewered pineapple chunks and ate one. “My only partner was my mother, so I suppose my embarrassment was minimal compared to yours.” 

“Wait, what?” Bones whipped his head around to face Spock. “Your _mother_ taught you _ballroom dancing?”_  

Spock inclined his head in the affirmative. “Since my father was an ambassador, I was often expected to attend social functions. My mother also wanted to ensure that I could execute classic Terran dances if necessary.” 

“Huh. I’ll be damned,” was all Bones could think to say. 

Spock neatly finished his drink without gurgling the last bit with the straw. “I was hoping, Doctor, that you might be amenable to… ‘dusting off your dancing shoes.’ There is a set of slower music, suitable for classical dance sequences, planned this evening.” 

“Really.” Bones gaped at Spock like a fish out of water. “Um… are you sure that’s a… _logical_ idea…” he began, but before he could finish, Spock stood up. 

“I believe this tune is suitable for the Slow Waltz,” he said, proffering his hand. “May I have this dance?” 

“Uh… um…” Bones hedged, blushing as the people around began to notice them. 

“Please?” Spock added, his brow slightly raised. “You are welcome to lead, if you prefer….” 

“God, Spock — I’m not sure I remember how,” Bones protested, grabbing Spock’s hand with some vague idea of pulling him into a sitting position again. Unfortunately, he had forgotten how much stronger Vulcans were than Humans. Spock managed to pull Bones up instead. 

“Then I shall lead,” he smoothly said, securing his other hand around Bones’ waist so he could not escape. Almost before he knew what was happening, Bones was dragged out onto the dance floor where only a few older couples were twirling. 

“Leonard,” Spock whispered to get his attention. 

“Huh?” Bones responded, looking at Spock with panicked eyes — which only grew wider when he saw that Spock was _smiling_. 

“Just relax,” Spock said. “I will not let you fall.” 

His grip around Bones’ midsection was certainly steady (“ _vice-like_ ” Bones thought fleetingly) as he led the flabbergasted doctor in a series of graceful turns and spirals. Spock held him even closer as he dipped him, then continued to dance with their contact increased. 

Bones was beyond comprehending how his body could react so naturally to Spock’s subtle leading. He had not practiced these movements since childhood; there was no way he could be remembering them on his own. He suspected that Spock was using his mind-melding mumbo-jumbo on him. However, for the moment he was simply glad that he was not making a fool out of himself, and he let himself be led as Spock wished. When the song ended, there was a ripple of appreciative applause from the other guests as well as the bride and groom. 

“I knew it! I _knew_ it!” Jim gushed as he drew near to clap them on their shoulders. “I just _knew_ you had to be a good dancer, Bones — you’ve always moved with more fluidity than your bulk would suggest! And I got photographic evidence, too! I gotta show this to my mom — she’ll be so jealous that you never asked _her_ to dance!” 

“Oh, God,” Bones groaned as he turned bright crimson. He felt as though his face were on fire when he realized that Spock had not released his grip. 

“The next time you see Mrs. Kirk, you really should ask her to dance,” Spock told him. “You are a very good dancer, Leonard.” 


	3. First Officer Not Fully in Uniform

Inspired by [this post](http://startrekker-runner.tumblr.com/post/157160130849/first-officer-not-fully-in-uniform): 

Captain Kirk strode into Sickbay only to come to a skidding halt at the sight of his first officer, who was standing behind a biobed and hurriedly straightening his clothes — or at least his black undershirt, since his uniform shirt was still in his hands. His normally tidy hair was also somewhat rumpled and Kirk thought he saw tinges of green in the Vulcan’s cheeks. 

“Captain.” Spock’s greeting was as formal and unruffled as ever. 

“Spock,” Kirk said, groping for words to follow. “Where’s Bones?” 

“Right here, Jim,” came a grumpy voice from behind the biobed. Dr. McCoy emerged, straightening _his_ uniform as he stood up, his hair definitely disheveled and his cheeks undeniably flushed. 

“Ah… am I… interrupting something?” Kirk asked, although he was not sure he wanted to hear the answer. 

“Just finishing up Spock’s annual physical,” McCoy replied. 

“I thought you’d finished everybody’s last month,” Kirk pointed out. 

“Dammit, Jim!” McCoy had turned beet red now. “Could you _try_ not to ask so many meddlesome questions?” 

Kirk stared at the doctor, mouth agape, then turned to his first officer. Spock met his eyes evenly but with one brow slightly upraised. Kirk finally realized what McCoy might _possibly_ have been doing down on the floor at Spock’s feet…

“Ah! Right…. Annual physical, of course. I… trust… everything… has… checked out?” 

“He’s functioning within normal parameters for him,” McCoy groused. “Or in laymen’s terms, he’s as healthy as a horse.” 

“Thank you, Doctor,” Spock put in. “If that is all…” 

“You’re free to return to duty,” McCoy pronounced, then added, “but if you ever have trouble again with, uh… that one matter we discussed, you’re to report to me _right away_  — any time, day or night. All right?” 

“Understood, Doctor,” Spock agreed, his complexion turning a deep chartreuse. 

“Well, then,” Kirk began, but he paused in bafflement. “What did I come down here for, anyway?” 

“Sounds like you need to get more rest,” McCoy declared.


End file.
